


I Was Meant For the Stage

by Spaceytrash



Series: Dead Poets Society inspired Hilson oneshots [1]
Category: House M.D.
Genre: Arguing, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, M/M, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 06:23:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spaceytrash/pseuds/Spaceytrash
Summary: During a lunch meeting with Wilson’s parents, House learns that maybe his friend’s childhood hadn’t been all sunshine and roses.Kind of inspired by Dead Poets Society.
Relationships: Greg House/James Wilson
Series: Dead Poets Society inspired Hilson oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592566
Comments: 2
Kudos: 108





	I Was Meant For the Stage

**Author's Note:**

> This happened because I watched Dead Poets Society again and cried my heart out.  
So since I had been already feeling sad I thought why not channel it into a fic and after 2 hours of sad writing this was the result. 
> 
> I called Wilson's older brother Jonothan for no reason, except that I like the name.

The theatre practice for the paediatric oncology fundraiser took longer than he had thought, so now he was rushing towards his office, to change from his cape and mask to his usual shirt and tie before his lunch meeting. But when he reached his goal, he saw that he was already too late. In front of his office were his parents, waiting for him to finally arrive. His mother looked around curiously, while his father glanced at his watch and tapped his foot annoyed.

Next to them stood House, who had been invited to join them to lunch, thanks to his relatively new status as Wilson’s partner. Normally he would never have agreed to it, but the older doctor couldn’t pass on the chance to embarrass his friend in front of his parents or hear about embarrassing events from his childhood (for the purpose of future blackmail obviously).

Wilson moved a hand to his neck, kneading the strung-out muscles. This was going to be exhausting, he already knew it. He finally reached them and immediately felt all eyes on him.

“Sorry I’m late, the practice ran a bit longer than expected. Just let me get changed quickly and then we can head off”

“What, you don’t want people to see you as the Boy Wonder that you are, completely with underpants on the outside?” teased House, while his parents only nodded at him. Choosing to ignore the other’s comment, Wilson went inside his office and changed.

When he came back out, he saw House looking around uncomfortably, no doubt because he wasn’t great in the meeting the parents department, so he put a hand on his arm in hopes of calming him down a bit. As thanks he got a small quirk of lips, which in turn made Wilson smile, freely. It was still amazing to him that he could finally do all the little touches he had dreamed of doing for ages.

“How you’ve been James?” his mother asked him cordially, while they started their way to a little café near the hospital. They talked about what had happened in their lives since they’ve seen each other last until they reached their destination.

His parents ordered a coffee and in his mum’s case a cake, while he got himself a mocha latte for him and House, plus a sandwich for them to share, since House would undoubtably have pilfered half of it anyways.

A slightly uncomfortable silence stretched before them, no one really knowing what to say to start a conversation. Next to him he felt House shift slightly, moving his leg to a more comfortable position.

“So, tell me son, what was the reason for the outfit?” his father asked, and Wilson looked down at his drink.

That particular topic was one he had hoped to avoid. He knew where this conversation would lead, once he told him and honestly, he didn’t want to go anywhere near that. And that had been the reason why he had hoped he could change before his parents arrived, so they could be non the wiser of his past time of being in a play again. But now that his father had asked, he needed to answer, it would be rude not to. And if his father didn’t like something it was rudeness. That, and defying his wishes.

Before he could answer though, House already did it for him, “He’s playing the main role in the oncology fundraiser play. It’s what he always wanted to be, a superhero for all his dying bald kiddies. As if they aren’t still going to die anyway”

Great, now his father knew. It had been ridiculous to think he could have hidden this information from his parents, especially since he had arrived in costume to meet them, but he had still hoped. He wasn’t ready for another argument like the one he had had back in his childhood. His hand was moving towards his neck again, kneading the muscles much harder than he should, but the pain helped him not to get lost in the memories. He needed to focus and steer the conversation to a safer topic.

“Yeah thanks House, I really needed to hear that… Anyways what have you been up to? I heard from Jonathan that you were looking to book a trip to Israel,” but his words went unheard.

“You’re acting again? Why? I thought you stopped after leaving Welton,” his father interrupted him. His facial expression made it clear what he thought of the idea of his son acting. He wasn’t impressed, not in the least and his face clearly showed his displeasure.

Wilson cringed inwardly and shifted slightly in his seat. This was exactly what he had wanted to avoid. Memories flared up in his mind, but he supressed them. It wasn’t worth thinking about it.

“Yes, it’s for the fundraiser event in a few weeks. The person who actually had gotten the role needed to quit for personal reasons, so my assistant Nancy, asked me if I could jump in and I agreed, since this is a really good chance to get some more money for the paediatrics ward,” even to his own ears his voice sounded defensive and meek.

He chanced a glance at House, out of the corner of his eyes, and saw that he was watching him intensively. Clearly intrigued with the conversation and trying to puzzle out why it was such a big deal. Wilson prayed to G*d that he wouldn’t find out and drop it but knew deep down that it was futile and the minute they were alone again he would jump on it like a dog to a bone.

His father harrumphed and took a sip of his coffee, looking like he ignored his son’s answer. All the while his mother looked worriedly between him and his father, like she was trying to find the right words to smooth over the fight that had began to brew between them. But like always, she had no idea how to do it.

Next to him he felt House move a bit closer towards him but didn’t acknowledge it further. Right now, he just wasn’t ready to face him and his questioning gaze.

“He is quite good you know. Well not professional level but definitely better than just an amateur,” House gruff voice defended him, and Wilson couldn’t hold back a soft smile. It was nice to see that for all the teasing he had been subjected to when his friend had found out about his plan for the fundraiser play, he was defending his choice now to his parents. That at least one person in this café was on his side, and his side alone.

His father just scoffed, and Wilson knew what exactly he thought of him acting, so instead of watching him become angry, he turned towards his coffee and ignored the rest of the people near him.

“Haven’t you learned anything from your time at Welton? You shouldn’t be in a play. You should focus your attention to your work. Yes, you’re a good doctor but you could be so much better, if you applied yourself more. Just look at where acting got you in the past. Nowhere”

Wilson balled his hands into fists and his breathing grew more erratic. His anger was growing. How dare his father say his acting got him nowhere. How dare he tell him to spend more time with his work, when it was almost all he did in his life, next to spending time with House. For once he was happy and doing something he loved, something that wasn’t his work and spending time with his partner. Something just for himself. He was damn good at it, so what right did his father have to criticise his actions? He breathed in deeply, trying to calm his racing heart and emotions.

Starting a fight wouldn’t help anything. He knew where his father stood on the topic and apparently nothing had changed from back then. Even though he did what his father had wanted for him to do and became a doctor, he still couldn’t live out his passions. It wasn’t fair but starting a fight wouldn’t help either. It didn’t mean that made him any less angry though.

He felt House tense next to him and a hand made its way to his thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“He is good and it’s not like he’s abandoning his work or patients. Wilson’s soft heart and pathological need to help people in pain is far too big for that anyways”

It felt good to have House defend him, but at the same time he felt weak and like a coward because he couldn’t even speak up for himself. Risking a glance upward, towards his father, he noticed how his nostrils flared and the vein on his neck pulsated. He was getting angry and Wilson had no idea how to stop it from happening. Had no idea what to say to defuse the situation or at least speak up for himself. It was pathetic really, but that’s what he was, wasn’t it? What he always had been. Even back in private school he hadn’t been ready to act out and tell his father where to shove his ideas and dreams for his son’s future. Not that it hadn’t worked out okay. He loved his job, he really did, and without it he never would have met House, but still. What harm would it have done if he had done theatre too?

“You should drop it. Your patients need you and you can get funds another way. You don’t need to degrade yourself to something as worthless as acting,” the harsh words of his father rang through his ears.

He heard a ringing inside his head and knew he was getting angrier and angrier. How dare he put this on him, when he was an adult and capable of making his own decisions. How dare he insinuate that he would neglect his patients by being in a play that would help them so much more in the long run. Or thinking he would neglect his duties just because he finally allowed himself to follow one of his passions. But his need to stick to social conventions and his fear for what his father would do if he didn’t, won out and he just looked at his coffee cup, ignoring the boiling anger inside himself.

He felt House getting angrier too, his hand on Wilson’s thigh growing more tense and slightly digging into his flesh. Somehow, he needed to calm the situation before both of them exploded and let their anger out. He didn’t want them to fight, he just wanted for everyone to get along and forget about the situation, but alas it never went the way he wished it would.

“It’s not worthless when he’s good, and he is. You haven’t even seen it. Plus, all the useless donors will melt away by the saccharine quality of the play with all the bald kiddies in it, ready to be saved by local Boy Wonder Wilson, just coming in time to save them with actual acting abilities. Nothing could empty a billionaire’s wallet more quickly”

Another scoff was heard from his father, and Wilson didn’t notice how his mother tried to sooth down his father’s anger with a touch on his arm, because his attention was still sorely focused on his cup of coffee.

“He shouldn’t have to do this. Acting is a fool’s errand and he should put his energy into his work, not something that would only distract him from the important things in life. Like his career and his relationship,“ Wilson knew that sentence was accompanied with a meaningful look at House, like his father thought he would get some sympathy from his friend just because he thought their relationship should come before something else.

“What do you care anyways? It’s not like it’s your life. Wilson can ruin his all he wants. You don’t get a say in it,” he could hear that House was trying not to snap even more at his father and Wilson appreciated the gesture. This side of House people rarely got to see. The one where he stood up for the people he cared about and showed clearly where his loyalties lied, and Wilson was immensely glad that he could see it without repercussions.

“House stop this. This isn’t an argument you should be involved in. it concerns only me and my son,” Wilson knew his father was really angry now. He never used House’s last name, always insisting just like his mother, to call him Greg, to force some sort of intimacy.

“I thought we were done with this James. You need to act like a proper doctor and treat your patients, not think about this delusion of acting again. It’s bad enough you once again went against convictions and got together with another man. Acting won’t help you get anywhere”

A hand smashed loudly against the small table, and Wilson was as surprised as his parents to see it had been his own. This was getting too much and he wanted nothing more than to just go back to his and House’s condo and leave the fight and the memories behind.

Quickly he stood up, bumping the table and making his coffee fall over and spill across it. He turned towards the exit and left without another word. Insulting him was one thing but insulting his relationship to House was another. He couldn’t sit with them anymore and listen to his father complain about his life choices, he had to get away.

In his peripheral vision he could see his mum mopping up the spilled drink with napkins and House grabbing his cane, standing up as quickly as he possibly could, all the while shoving the table deliberately, so more of the drinks spilt, and following him. The tip step of House’s way of walking came closer but Wilson stayed silent, not wanting to think or talk about what just happened. Thankfully House for once got the message and didn’t say a word, just followed him to the car and only made his presence known when he changed the radio channel in the car to something more appropriate to Wilson’s mood.

Once they arrived at their loft, Wilson loosened his tie and threw his coat alongside it on the couch, for once not caring of hanging it up correctly to prevent creases. He sat down heavily on the soft furniture and let out a long and tired sigh. This day had gone worse than even in his worst nightmares. He closed his eyes frustratedly and tried to calm down to no avail.

Suddenly he felt a cool bottle touch his hand and he took it without thinking. Opening his eyes, he saw that House was standing in front of him and handing him a bottle of beer. He then sat down next to him, their shoulders touching, and took a sip of his own bottle.

Wilson knew the need to know what his fight with his parents had been about, burned underneath House’s skin but for once he felt no need to enable his curiosity. He just wanted to forget any of it happened, so he could keep the memories and feelings, that dreaded to come up to the surface, at bay. The silence stretched on for some time, but before Wilson had emptied half his bottle House finally broke it, his curiosity getting the better of him. In his mind Wilson was impressed he had thought his friend would voice his questions immediately after sitting down.

“So, you’ve acted before”

Despite House obviously waiting for an answer Wilson refused to acknowledge the question, hoping against hope that if he ignored it long enough, House would get the hint and leave it alone.

“Didn’t end well, if I interpreted your father’s words correctly, but then again that wasn’t the most interesting bit of information during that conversation. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you had been with a guy before.”

Immediately Wilson turned towards House, the shock clearly written on his face. He hadn’t thought House had picked up on that particular piece of information, at least he had hoped he hadn’t. but he should have known that it was a futile one. Yet Wilson just huffed, still not wanting to answer any of the questions. Instead he just took another sip of his beer.

“Guess that also didn’t end well. Should I be concerned? After all your track record with relationships is in the negative”

Angry eyes turned towards House. Wilson knew he just wanted to get a rise out of him, but House always knew the exact buttons to press to get one anyways.

“Shut up House. It was a long time ago and it’s none of your business.”

They stayed silent for a while, uncomfortable stillness around them, neither of them knowing how to break and clear it.

“You know for someone, who always wants to talk to me about my feelings and problems, you’re not very forthcoming with your own. I’d call you a hypocrite, but I know that would just ruin my chances at sex with you tonight,“ House’s voice was scathing but Wilson could hear the concern underneath. That didn’t help his mood though.

“It’s none of your business and it doesn’t concern you. It was a long time ago. Just drop it for once”

Now angry eyes were focusing on Wilson, the blue in them growing cold and grey, “And yet you still insist on me airing out all of my dirty laundry, if I want to or not”

“Fine, you’re right! I don’t like to talk about my past. Yes, I have done a play before and yeah, I have also loved a guy before you! Are you happy now?!” Wilson snapped, his body jerking towards House, a bit of his beer spilling out of the bottle and landing on the soft carpet underneath their feet. His eyes were flashing with supressed anger and his breathing became more erratic.

House just lifted an eyebrow and laid back more on the couch. His demeanour deliberately calm, hoping it would reassure Wilson and get him to talk.

“What happened?” his voice was full of curiosity, but his eyes shined with concern he wouldn’t or couldn’t voice outright.

That look was what finally broke Wilson’s resolve. He sighed and scratched his neck shortly, turning his face towards their flat screen, not ready to see House’s reaction to his past, and slowly began to talk.

“My parents enrolled me into a private academy, called Welton, when I was 12. I was there until I became 18. It wasn’t a great place. You were expected to get straight A’s and not only was it strict, but every minute of the day was either filled with classes or studying for classes. I hated it, but Jonathan went there, so of course my parents didn’t care what I thought of it. During my last year I got a new roommate. His parents had wanted him to go to Welton before, but his grades hadn’t been good enough, so he had to improve on another school first. The first few months I really didn’t care about him much, we exchanged greetings but that was it. Sure, I invited him to study sessions and late-night meetups with my friends but apparently our disinterest was mutual because he never showed.

We also had a new English teacher that year, Mr. Keating. He was great and English finally became something I looked forwards to, unlike all the years before. We didn’t analyse poems and plays to death, no he taught us to become freethinkers and make our own decisions. He even made us march in the schoolyard once to prove a point,” Wilson smiled at this point, despite the overwhelming feeling of sadness that these memories involuntary brought to the forefront.

“Despite our first struggles me and Todd, that was my roommates name, became pretty close. He hadn’t been a closed of ass, like I first thought. He was just deadly shy and afraid to speak up. His parents never listened to him; you see, so he saw no point. He was the one who supported me when I wanted to try out acting. It was for the town hall play, they always organised one during the winter, and that year it had been A Midsummer Night’s dream and I finally got enough courage to go to the open try outs. I had always wanted to act but father wouldn’t allow it. With Keating’s ideas of being your own man and Todd’s encouragements I felt like it was a good idea to defy my father’s wishes. I think you already figured out how that went,” Wilson’s hand once again found the back of his neck, the scratching motion comforting him from the dreadful memories surfacing after years of repression.

When Wilson didn’t continue for a while, House made an encouraging sound, knocking his knee against his friend’s, offering silent support.

“Well I went to the try outs and got the main part, Puck, and I was so happy. It felt so right to act and be good at it. That and the endorphin rush was probably why I thought faking a letter to the headmaster in my father’s name was a good idea and could actually work. Todd had tried to warn me, but I wouldn’t listen.

It worked for a while, I went to the practices, feeling happier than I ever had before, but it couldn’t last. Father found out the day before the play was supposed to take place. We got into a fight and he forbade me to act. Of course, being the moody teenager that I was, I defied his wishes. He had a conference in Washington that weekend, so I thought he would never find out, but he appeared halfway through the show. I was good. I was very good House, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was his image and his dream for me to become a doctor. Todd kissed me right after the show. He was so happy for me and I couldn’t believe that he would do this, when it was something I had dreamed of for months. Of course that didn’t help with my father and just made him more angry. He tore me away, took me home and we got into a huge fight…,” he stopped once again, a lump building in his throat and stopping him from talking further. He gulped a few times and blinked repeatedly to stop the tears that threatened to fall.

Bringing up these memories had been stupid, and he should have just ignored House’s questions. But he had started now, so he should as well finish.

“It wasn’t pretty and we both said things we regret. Then I did something stupid. When my parents went to sleep, I couldn’t get the idea out of my head that my life was over. That acting was the only thing that mattered and if I couldn’t do that, my life wouldn’t matter. I went to my father’s study and took out his gun. Stared at it for ages, until morning really. That’s where my parents found me the next morning, still staring at it. They rightfully flipped out of course. And the next thing I knew was that I’ve been enrolled into a military school until graduation. I wasn’t even able to say goodbye to my friend, to Todd. Eventually I grew up and discarded the fantasy of becoming an actor and went to med school, just like my father always wanted.”

He sighed. His hands were shaking, and his breath came out in stuttering huffs, eyes still fixated on their flat screen, not ready to see his partner’s reaction.

“Your father is a moron,” House declared, a calloused hand reaching for a soft one and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’re a talented actor and even I see how much you enjoy it. Your father should have let you keep doing it, if not as a main career than at least as a hobby. It’s not your fault”

Wilson gingerly looked at his partner, surprised by the obvious sadness but also love he saw in the deep blue eyes before him. It was almost suffocating but he felt immediately calmer and safer. House was on his side and always would be. It meant more to him than he could voice, so instead of trying, he answered the squeeze with one of his own and put his free hand on House’s cheek, his thumb running soothing circles along his cheekbone.

“Thank you. I really wanted to … - needed to hear that, “ he leaned forward, closing the distance between them and letting their lips meet in a tender kiss. He felt House reciprocate immediately and felt the tension wash off his body. Rough hands stroked over his legs and made him relax and forget about the painful past. It didn’t matter what had happened, only what was happening right now.

Once they broke apart, Wilson kept his eyes closed, not wanting to lose the feeling of safety and comfort that House’s kiss had evoked in him. A rough thumb slid over his cheek and made him open his eyes slowly.

“Let’s get your sexy ass into some acting lessons. And once you get another main part you can thank me by letting little Greg get the main one in your bed”

Suddenly the whole tension and melancholy of the afternoon drifted off him and he let out a genuine laugh. How could anyone not love this incredible, crude idiotic genius? Without another thought he let their lips meet once again, only this time the kiss wasn’t soft but passionate. 


End file.
